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Hux was fairly certain he was starting to go mad. He had no idea how long he’d been in his cell. There were no widows to let in daylight, and the solid metal door had remained firmly shut since he’d been thrown in, with only a small slot at the bottom opening to slide in trays of unappealing food. He hadn’t had any human contact in stars only knew how long. He knew what solitary confinement could do to a person, had used that information to his advantage on occasion. He’d never expected to experience it’s effects first hand.
As if Hux’s thoughts had summoned them, someone slid open the panel in the door and a tray was shoved through. Today’s meal was grey sludge in a bowl, and Hux wished he weren’t so hungry he had no choice but to eat it. The meager food they gave him was barely enough to keep him going, and he had no choice but eat whatever was provided. Before the person on the other side of the door walked away, Hux decided to try his luck asking a question.
“How long have I been here?” His voice was hoarse and he desperately wished today’s meal had included water. There was no answer from outside his cell save for retreating footsteps. Hux glared at where he guessed the person’s retreating back to be. Once the footsteps faded Hux turned his attention to retrieving the food he’d been given.
Hux’s was currently sitting on the floor, wrapped in the thin sheet that had been on his bed. He couldn’t easily reach his bed, however, as his leg had been broken during his capture, and he had received no medical attention since then. So he’d pulled the sheet off his bed and spent most of the time trying to stay warm while sitting on the cold ground, and attempting to come up with a plan. Unfortunately his broken leg meant he had to crawl across the floor to retrieve the food provided to him.
Swallowing his pride once again, Hux crawled gingerly across the floor, hissing in pain as his leg was jostled. The food wasn’t even warm and hadn’t come with a spoon this time. Hux leaned against the heavy door and forced himself to take small handfuls of food and eat them. The texture alone would have been enough to turn his stomach if he weren’t starving, but as it was he really had no choice but to eat everything he was given.
When the bowl was empty Hux crawled back to his sheet. He wrapped himself up again and leaned against the cold wall. They’d taken his greatcoat when he’d been grabbed, likely as proof that they really had him. He was fairly certain his tunic had been taken just to make him uncomfortable. If he wasn’t mistaken he was being held for ransom, and he could only hope the First Order would be willing to pay what they asked. Until then, however, he was left in his pants and an undershirt, shivering in the cold air.
He must have fallen asleep at some point. He had no sense of night and day anymore, only sleeping when he was tired, which was becoming alarmingly often. Hux was woken from a dream he couldn’t quite remember, but left him unsettled nonetheless, by the door to his cell screeching as it opened.
Hux immediately straightened up as well as he could. He was exhausted and injured, but he’d be damned if he let go of what dignity he had left. There was a figure standing in the doorway, holding a stun baton. They were wearing a helmet and when they spoke, it was through a vocoder, so Hux had no way of knowing if he should recognise them or not.
“General Hux.” The words were staticky and unnerving. “You will come with me. It seems your employers need some, convincing.” Hux did not care for the way they said convincing. Even with the vocoder distorting their words, it was clear Hux was going to be hurt.
“You broke my leg.” Hux remained sitting, trying to look as though he was speaking to a disappointing subordinate and not his captor and possible soon to be torturer. “I’m not walking anywhere with you.” His captor shrugged, then approached Hux. Before Hux could try to scramble away, he was jabbed in the side with the stun baton and blasted with a bolt of electricity. His whole body stiffened and then went limp when the baton was removed. Hux sprawled on the floor.
Hux’s captor took full advantage of his temporary pliability. They grabbed Hux’s arms and began dragging him rather quickly down the hallway. Hux screwed his eyes shut in pain as his motor functions returned and his leg was put in agony as it was dragged mercilessly down the rough stone hallway.
Hux focused on breathing in and out, and not making any embarrassing noises, no matter how badly it hurt. Eventually they stopped moving, and Hux could hear the sound of a door opening, before he was unceremoniously flung forward into a room. He couldn’t stop a cry of pain from escaping his lips as he landed on his leg. Hux moved slowly, carefully removing his weight from his broken leg. Before he could finish resituating himself he was grabbed once again by his captor.
Hux was forced to his knees and grit his teeth against the devastating pain. He was roughly repositioned to face into a bright light that had him squinting. As his eyes adjusted, he realised he was being filmed. There was a camera next to the blinding light. His captors had really brought in a light to make their video of him being tortured look better. He was almost impressed by their dedication. Mostly though, he was just apprehensive.
“Here we have a great general of the First Order.” Hux’s captor spoke. Their tone made it clear exactly what they thought of the First Order. “I’ve been told you’re rather reluctant to pay to get him back. I’m here to, encourage, you.” Again, the way they said ‘encourage’ let Hux know he was in for something unpleasant. “So I thought maybe we’d send you a piece for free, to remind you of what you’re missing.” Their laughter sounded strange through the vocoder.
Hux steeled himself for whatever was about to happen. His captor fisted one hand in his hair and tilted Hux’s head back, exposing his neck. Were they about to slit his throat? No, that wouldn’t make sense, there would be no ransom if he was dead. So what then?
Hux’s fears were not assuaged when his captor brought their other hand into his field of view, holding a very large knife. Well that wasn’t great. He couldn’t make out many details on the knife, the light and its proximity to his face leaving it rather blurry, but he could see its shine and make out colors he presumed to be gemstones embedded in what he could see of the handle.
Before he could start worrying about what exactly was going to be done with the knife his captor brought it behind his ear. Oh. Hux steeled himself, gritting his teeth and reminding himself over and over that he would not embarrass himself with sounds of pain, or even worse, tears.
Then he felt the blade actually bite into his skin. Hux bit his lip hard enough to draw blood in an attempt to remain silent. He was used to feeling pain. He’d been coping with the pain of a broken leg for days, or possibly weeks. This though, this really hurt. The right side of his head felt like it was on fire. Hux dug his teeth in, determined to make it through this without breaking. Unfortunately doing this simply caused more pain, in a different place. Hux could feel his face contorting in pain against his will.
His captor was taking their time. Hux was fairly certain this could be over with already, but they were moving the knife excruciatingly slowly. Hux just focused on breathing. The knife his captor was using was sharp, things could be much worse.
Things got worse once his captor had detached roughly two thirds of Hux’s ear. That was when they put the knife down. Hux was too caught up in not giving in to the excruciating pain to notice at first, but his attention was grabbed when his captor grabbed ahold of his ear with their gloved hand. Hux’s eyes flew open. He knew what was about to happen but before he could mentally prepare himself, his captor wrenched his ear the rest of the way off.
Hux screamed as his skin tore. This was not the sharp even feel of a blade cutting through his flesh. This was the brutal feeling of his skin splitting from the brute strength of his captor. The hand in Hux’s hair was the only thing that kept him from having his head wrenched sideways with his ear, and he was fairly certain he could feel some of his hair tearing out. The tears Hux had so carefully been holding back fell freely down his face as he gasped for breath in between screams of pain.
“We will be happy to send more pieces if you still need incentive to pay up.” His captors voice cut through Hux’s cries. Abruptly the light next to the camera turned off and Hux was released to slump to the floor. He lay on the ground, fighting down the bile that had begun to rise in his throat. He wouldn’t humiliate himself further by vomiting on the floor. Hux gasped and struggled to cope with the pain flooding his senses until, all at once, his world went dark.
--
The first thing Hux became aware of was a distorted noise. It was irritating, and he tried to ignore it and return back to the blissful peace of unconsciousness. Unfortunately the noise continued, and Hux felt himself get dragged back into wakefulness. The second thing Hux became aware of was the excruciating pain in his head. He gasped and his eyes shot open. What had happened?
“Hey buddy, you with me?”
Hux turned his attention towards the voice, which he recognized to be what had woken him up. What he saw didn’t help him feel any better. Poe Dameron, resistance pilot and frequent pain in Hux’s ass. What was he doing here? Where was here, again? Hux frowned, it was impossible to try to remember things with the way his head hurt. He brought a hand up to the spot the pain seemed to be coming from and then hissed as applying pressure made the pain worse. He felt blood, and something seemed very wrong but he couldn’t put his finger on what.
“I wouldn’t touch that.” Poe reclaimed his attention, gently moving Hux’s hand away from his head. Hux bristled, indignant that Poe thought he could just touch him like that, but too weak to do much about it. “What did they do to you?” Poe sat back, and that was when Hux realised he was lying on the floor, and that his back felt extremely stiff.
“Where?” Hux’s voice was rough, and he carefully pulled himself to a sitting position. He didn’t like having Poe looming over him the way he was.
“Where are we?” Poe finished Hux’s sentence when it became clear Hux wasn’t going to. “I was sorta hoping you could tell me. I got shot down in a fight and next thing I knew these guys were dragging me away from the wreck. I think they’re pirates, but I have no idea where they brought us.”
Hux’s memories were returning now. He cleared his throat before speaking. “They’re holding us for ransom. Not that the resistance has the funds to secure your freedom.” Of course, the First Order clearly hadn’t paid for Hux’s return either, or he wouldn’t still be here. At least he and Poe were in the same boat.
“They may not have the funds, but they’re coming for me.” Poe sounded confident, like there was no doubt the resistance would waste precious resources rescuing a single pilot. “What about you?” Poe turned serious. “Things can’t be good if they cut your ear off.”
Hux’s hand immediately flew back to the side of his head. That was what had been wrong, his ear was missing. Hux suddenly had to choke down bile as he remembered getting his ear ripped off on camera. He must have started panicking because Poe was suddenly way too close to him.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay. It’s over, you’re here with me now, okay?” Poe wrapped an arm around Hux’s shoulders, pulling him slightly into Poe’s chest. “Breath, okay. You’re okay. It’s over, you’re okay.”
Despite his anger at being grabbed, Hux forced himself to breath, to calm himself. Panicking wouldn’t help anything, and would only serve to embarrass him in front of Poe. As Hux forced himself to relax, he realized this was the first gentle human contact he’d had in a long time. It had been months probably, when he thought about it, possibly over a year, and there was a difference between finding a willing partner while on shore leave and having someone hold you and talk you down from a panic. It was, nice, actually.
Hux found himself sagging in Poe’s hold. He wanted to sleep again, but didn’t want to lose the comfort of being held. The remaining rational part of Hux’s brain reminded him that Poe was an enemy, and that even if he wasn’t, Hux shouldn’t be showing this kind of weakness. Unfortunately for Hux’s rational brain, his injured, exhausted, and probably touch starved brain won, and he made no effort to push away from Poe and sit back up.
“There you go.” Poe didn’t seem to mind Hux’s sudden lack of energy. “Let’s get you onto that bed, okay? Can you stand?” Poe pulled back slightly and Hux hated himself for missing the contact. It took him a moment to look beyond that and realize he’d been asked a question.
“No.” He couldn’t stand. “My leg, they broke it.” Hux just barely restrained himself from reaching out to Poe. He decided to blame his weakness on the exhaustion left over from his torture.
“Okay, brace yourself then.” Before Hux could ask what Poe meant by that, he was being lifted up in Poe’s arms. Hux let out an indignant squawk, and then a grunt of pain. “I know, I’m sorry.” Poe carried Hux over to the bed that jutted out from the wall and laid him carefully down on the sorry excuse for a mattress. “Hold on, let me grab that sheet.” Poe walked off, returning quickly to drape the sheet Hux had left on the floor over his shivering body.
Hux was fighting with himself about asking Poe to stay close to him or not, but it turned out he didn’t need to say anything, as Poe sat down on the edge of the bed. “It looks like the bleeding stopped on its own, but we should probably bandage it anyway so it doesn’t get infected.”
“What?” Hux was half asleep already and had no idea what Poe was talking about.
“Your ear.” Poe gestured towards Hux’s head. “I’m going to have to tear the sheet, sorry.” Hux just shrugged. Poe was right, leaving a wound that size open was just asking for something to get in it. Poe tore off a few strips from the bottom of the sheet before scooting up the bed until he was sitting in front of Hux’s face.
“Lift your head please.” Poe carefully wrapped the strip of sheet around Hux’s head while Hux struggled to keep it elevated above the mattress. “There you go.” Poe began tying the two strips together on the crown of Hux’s head, and Hux let himself go limp and fall back into the mattress. Poe stood when he was done, and Hux turned his head to look at him.
“Why are you helping me?” He sounded tired, even to his own ears. Some grim part of him wondered how much longer he could really survive here if the Order didn’t hurry up and come for him.
Poe shrugged. “You’re having a worse day than I am, that’s for sure.” He laughed weakly and ran a hand over his hair before continuing. “I don’t like torture. I’ve been tortured, and I have to say I’m wholly against anyone else experiencing that. And,” Poe paused for a moment, looking thoughtful. “You’re alone. If your guys were coming for you they probably would have done it before you got your ear cut off. I’m pretty sure that’s not the first thing these kinds of people do when they take a hostage. You’ve been here a while. Am I right?”
Hux was too tired to lie, so he just nodded weakly. He was starting to accept no one was coming for him. Poe sighed. “You’re in a bad place, and you need help. I don’t want to be the kind of person who wouldn’t try to help you, y’know? Regardless of the war.”
That sounded rather stupid, but Hux wisely chose to keep his mouth shut. If Poe wanted to ignore logic and act emotionally, Hux wasn’t going to stop him.
“You should sleep.” Poe began to move away from the bed and Hux felt a pang of loss. He’d enjoyed Poe’s closeness, found it comforting even.
“Wait.” Maybe Poe wasn’t the only one acting emotionally. “Will you stay?” It went against everything Hux knew to make the request, and he wasn’t certain he’d even worded it clearly. Luckily for him, Poe was smarter than he seemed.
“Okay.” Poe returned and carefully lay down on the very edge of the bed under the sheet. He looked like he might fall off at any moment and Hux rolled his eyes before weakly tugging on the front of Poe’s shirt. Poe took the hint and moved in closer. “You should sleep, Hux.”
Hux nodded, wishing for more gentle contact but deciding not to push his luck and just be happy with what he had. It was silent for a moment before Poe spoke again. “They’re not coming for you, are they?” He didn’t sound pitying, just sad.
Hux shook his head. They would have come by now if they wanted him back. He’d been abandoned to die. He was too exhausted to feel the fear that realization probably should have caused.
“Come with me.” Poe lifted his arm up before draping it across Hux like a protective weight. “When my friends come, come with us. You can get medical attention and then leave, if that’s what you want, but I can’t leave you here.”
Hux had several retorts about refusing to be a resistance prisoner and about how he’d rather die than work with the enemy, but all of those things would probably cause Poe to leave or at least remove his arm, and Hux really didn’t want that. So instead he nodded, just once, before burying his head in Poe’s chest, and letting his eyes slip shut. Maybe he didn’t have to die here afterall.